


i lit a fire (isn't it good?)

by lockwoodstie (PilotInTheStars)



Category: Lockwood & Co. - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: Annabel Ward Deserved Better, F/M, Gen, John Fairfax Sucks, Sewing, Slight references to the beginning of the Problem, Sunflower Dresses, Technically 1960s, Unhealthy Relationships, backstory fic, vague references to sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23286004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PilotInTheStars/pseuds/lockwoodstie
Summary: The next year was just like that summer. It was bright and sunny one moment, and Annie was certain she was on top of the world. The next moment it was dark and stormy, like thunder and lightning.There seemed to be more storms than sunshine nowadays.-Annabel Ward, her life, and just exactly how and why she deserved better.
Relationships: Annabel Ward/John Fairfax
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15





	i lit a fire (isn't it good?)

**Author's Note:**

> Mads likes writing long backstories for random characters. Plz enjoy this love letter to Annabel Ward. And John Fairfax is the worst.
> 
> In all honesty, this has truly been my fic passion project for the past four or so months. I find it has a lot of meaning for me and I had a lot of fun creating my own story for Annabel Ward.
> 
> A special thank you to @sharknana29 for their wonderful beta-ing, support, and feedback as always, and a special thank you to the Lockwood and Co. Discord for their constant support. <3
> 
> Please note that this fic is mostly about an unhealthy relationship and the effects of that. Please be aware before you go in. There's also a few vague references to sex, which I tagged as a warning up above. 
> 
> All warnings said, I hope you enjoy!!
> 
> (Of course I named this fic after a lyric in a Beatles' song. I'm predictable. Norwegian Wood was my background noise for writing a good 3/4ths of this fic).

Annabel Ward, in many ways, had an ideal childhood. 

She didn’t remember much of her early years, but when she went back into her memory and tried to recount those earliest moments, it had only ever been her and her father together. And they were happy.

He owned a tailoring shop, and after school, she sat at her father’s work station, passing him the thread and the other tools he needed, sewing and mending until the sun began to set and it was time to head home for the night. She liked to watch him alter suits and dresses for all the men and women who walked in. They would go and stand on the wooden step stool and he’d pin and mark what he needed to do, and they’d leave him with the garments and he’d thread his needle and get to work.

Stitch after stitch after stitch. 

His eyes grew feeble after a while and his hands grew shaky, and she took some of her father’s work to help him. She learned to hem and sew and alter, and after her work for school in the evenings was done, she turned to sewing. 

* * *

Annie’s closest friends seemed to change like the seasons. From one group to the other and back again she went, and it seemed to change all the time. That was fine with her. That was just how it was. 

She was always sociable in school, and did fine with her work, even if the teachers had to remind her to stop talking every once in a while. Her father was fine with her marks, and he was proud of her.

Annie had a fierce sense of loyalty to her friends, though unfortunately, as she got older, her memories seemed to fade.

She never did quite forget when she had gotten into serious trouble when she was six, for punching a boy who made fun of her friend’s dress. She had never seen the teacher so livid, and she was immediately punished. Her blonde pigtails, with the pink ribbons at the end, seemed to droop, and she had gone home and cried.

Her father had been stern, of course, but he never had too much of the heart to punish or even scold her. It was discussed once, and the memory of her fierce temper and protection of her friend was soon pushed away. 

* * *

She went on her first date when she was fourteen. He was nice, and bought her a ticket to the cinema. They dated for a bit after that. 

It wasn’t fit to last- Annie knew that. But it could last a little while, and that was perfectly fine too.

But, like practically all firsts, she wouldn’t forget that first kiss under the rainy awning of the cafe, and the bouquet of flowers that found themselves in her hands at school, and the curious expression on her father’s face when she was constantly out. 

No, she most certainly couldn’t forget that. She never spoke to the boy again after they left school, but her mind always remembered.

* * *

A month after they broke up, Annie took up a job at her father’s shop.

She had been working for him practically since she could walk. But she was paid now, a small wage, and it was something. She went out with friends and to the store, occasionally to the theatre here and there.

Her father sent her to a store one day as an errand. He needed black thread and was sure he would run out before the day was up. She went to the store and found what she needed, and she walked back up the front, a skein of fabric caught her eye. 

She took a step forward and picked it up. 

The spools of thread were delivered to her father’s supplies, and the skein of fabric, its bright yellow and its sunflowers providing warmth during these cold months was hidden in the bottom of the bag. She folded it, and stored it away. 

* * *

Annabel finished her schooling, and in a spur of interest and a desire to do something, auditioned and was cast in Hamlet at a local theatre. She had done a few productions in school, but nothing like this. Her father was proud, and while she worried that she wouldn’t be able to help as much with the tailoring, she did what she could.

She was reading lines to herself when the director called her.

“Annabel!” Her head turned and she saw a young man standing there, half-flinching from the director’s sharp words which had just been yelled in his ear. “Come meet your fellow actor.”

Annabel walked over.

“Annie, meet John. John, meet Annie.”

The young man shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well.”

The director eyed them. “Figured that it would be best to have Hamlet and Ophelia meet before our full run through. Get your scripts, take it from Act Three, Scene One.”

Annie eyed John, and walked up the steps to the stage. John followed. 

“John, take stage left, Annabel, center.” The director glanced at his script. “After your soliloquy, John.”

John’s eyes met hers again. He motioned for her to start when she was ready. 

“Good my lord, how does your honour for this many a day?”

“I humbly thank you; well, well, well.”

“My lord, I have remembrances of yours that I have long to re-deliver; I pray you, now receive them.”

John froze for a moment, his eyes glancing down at his script.

“No, not I,” he said, calmly and almost coldly. “I never gave you aught.” 

* * *

It had been a week since their first meeting. 

“Annabel, would you like to run lines?”

She looked up and saw John Fairfax standing there, holding his script. She glanced around, they were all alone.

Annie smiled. “Alright.” She could certainly use the practice.

She hopped up onto the stage and opened her script. Her legs dangled over the edge.

“What scene?”

He flipped through his script. “Act Three, Scene Two,” he said.

Annie flipped there. “Which part?”

“We’ll go from my line right before your first.” He cleared his throat.

“Lady, shall I lie in your lap?”

It was a part, nothing more, but Annie couldn’t help but flush from the straightforwardness of the line. She tried to hide her pink face behind the script a little better.

“No, my lord.”

“I mean, my head upon your lap?”

“Ay, my lord…" Annie then broke character. "Actually can we skip to the next part?”

“Oh yes, of course. Right after the play?”

Annie nodded. “That would work.” Her eyes skimmed the page for the right line.

“Ah, yes.” She stood up a little straighter. “What means this, my lord?”

“Marry, this is miching mallecho. It means mischief.”

Annie quickly jumped to reply, “Belike this show imports the argument of the play.” She looked up and caught his eye, feeling her heart flutter. 

“Actually, John, I’m so sorry, I forgot. My father needs me this evening and I’m afraid I’m leaving him behind.”

John jumped to his feet. “Of course, my apologies for keeping you.”

“It’s not a problem, really. I just have to be home.” She gave another apologetic smile and went to grab her things.

“Annie?”

She looked up from her bag. “Yes?”

“Will is fine. You can call me Will."

Annie smiled. “Will then. Goodnight, Will."

“Goodnight, Annie.” She hurried home, her heart racing. Her father was still awake at that hour, reading a book. He asked her what was the matter. She shook it off.

* * *

They avoided each other during the rest of the rehearsals, unsure of where to go from there. But there was no avoiding their scenes together, all of their moments on stage.

Their eyes would meet and Annie’s heart would do strange, funny things, like the cartwheels on a summer day. She couldn’t forget the way he looked under the lights, and even when she was backstage, she’d find herself looking out onto the stage to see what he was doing. 

It was a feeling unlike anything else she had ever felt before. 

They kissed on closing night. The curtains fell after the final bow, and everyone walked off to their respective places. Annie felt a rush of adrenaline from the final bow, her heart pounding in her chest, her eyes turned towards the red of the velvet curtain.

_She wasn’t alone._

Will was standing there, smiling at her. And then he kissed her.

She kissed him back, throwing her arms around his neck, and his around hers. There was a push and pull, that felt like gravity itself. His lips were fiercely pressed up against hers, and all she could feel was warmth. 

She had been kissed before, enough times that they all ran together like jammed threads on a sewing machine, or children toppling over each other in the playground during their play. This made sense though. 

Or she could convince herself that it made sense.

_It had to. What else would make sense?_

Annie let go, and Will leaned back into kissing her again.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment, as they stood there on the stage, in costume, in each other’s arms. 

Someone coughed behind them, annoyed at their snogging, and Annie couldn’t help but back out of his arms again. She gave a small nervous laugh. 

“Would you like to meet me for dinner tomorrow night?”

Annie froze. Did she? There had been something between them, of course, she had known that ever since their first rehearsal together.

Impulsive Annabel took over. 

“I’d love to.”

* * *

Annie continued acting. She and Will were both in _Pygmalion_ as Freddy and Eliza respectively, and the director quickly found a new hobby of yelling at them every time they found themselves in the wings, arms around each other, kissing furiously. 

Annie found her own flat in the city, still visiting her father practically everyday. She acted in all sorts of productions, some with Will, some without, but other than their brief times apart, they were practically inseparable. 

Will was over, and somehow, after a bottle of wine and a couple of songs on the record, she had ended up in his lap, his lips on hers, and his hands on her waist. He was warm and fierce and pleasant, and she didn’t want to leave his arms.

“I love you,” he had whispered to her softly, kissing her right below her ear. 

Her eyes met his. She didn’t know if she could completely say I love you yet. She cared for him, fiercely. She cared for him and her heart sang for him in a way that she could not possibly put into words. 

* * *

It was a few months later when Annie woke up alone in her bedroom, bare between sheets and the blanket and pleasantly sore. Morning sunlight gathered in bunches through the window. She dressed and got up and walked downstairs to the kitchen. Will was there, the dining table bathed in early morning sunlight.

There was a small, pink, velvet box sitting underneath the vase of flowers. 

“Open it,” Will said.

Annie sat down and did what he requested. Her fingers pried the lid from the bottom and she found a necklace there. She inspected it, seeing shiny flecks of mother of pearl on the gold top and a clasp at the side.

An inscription was on the front.

Tormentum meum

Laetitia mea

Something panged deep in her heart.

“A locket?” she asked. She felt her cheeks get as pink as her nightgown.

Will nodded, and she opened up the locket.

A | W

H.II.2.115

“A reference to Hamlet, you see. Our first play together.”

Annie looked up and smiled at him. “Thank you, Will. I love it.” He gently took the necklace from her hands, unclasping it and then draping it over her neck, fastening it - and him - to her.

* * *

Will promised he’d see her at the dance. 

Annie had been looking forward to it all week, it was one of the few thoughts that had crossed her mind when she had done her work and went over lines for what she was performing in. 

Will promised that he’d meet up with her as soon as he saw her. 

Annie entered the ballroom, all done up in her gown and her dress, and scanned the room for ages. He had to be around there somewhere. 

Will promised that he’d dance with her.

Song after song played, and plenty of dancing partners were there. She refused, politely as she could of course. She had a prior engagement.

And then finally, she saw him. Will.

Will caught her eye from across the room, and all she could so was stare. Will’s face was empty, he simply gave a curt nod and faded away, as if he was some ghost. Her friend had been trying to speak to her, but she had stomped off before anything was able to be said.

Bitterness crept into her heart, jealousy overcame all of her senses.

She sulked in the corner for the rest of the night, in some chair by some table, a champagne glass in her hand. Angry tears filled her eyes and she tried her best to let them not spill over. 

“Pardon me, are you Annabel Ward?” 

Annie looked up. A young man, perhaps a bit older than her, was standing there. He had longer hair, it reached his shoulders, and a garish pink tie. She knew him from somewhere. 

“I am. You?”

“Hugo Blake. I was wondering if you cared to dance.” 

Annie smiled apologetically. She hoped there wasn’t lipstick on her teeth. “Perhaps another night, Hugo. My feet hurt.”

He frowned, maybe recalling that she hadn’t danced at all that evening, but shook it off. “I’ll just sit with you then.”

Annie didn’t want anyone to sit with, if she was being honest. She wanted to sit there, on her own, in her own angry rage. 

But having someone there beside her, was quite nice in some ways.

The dance ended and everyone clapped, and Annie went off immediately, heels in hand, stumbling off into the courtyard below.

“Annie!” 

The sound of Will’s voice made the fury in her heart bubble over like water boiling in a pot. She ignored him, and kept walking.

“Annie! Annabel.” 

She turned at that, and two pairs of angry eyes met in the night. Other people had left the ballroom by then, laughing tipsily and heading to whatever means of transportation they needed to get to to go home. 

“I don’t want to speak to you.”

“Just listen to me for a moment!” 

Will walked closer to her.

“What is there to say?”

“Let me explain myself.”

She clenched her hands into fists.

“You ignored me all evening. You promised. You promised you’d see me, Will. And then I see you, dancing with everyone else, ignoring me.”

“Annie, I-” He looked off to the side, then took a few steps forward. She took a few steps back, angry tears bubbling over and falling down her cheeks, dripping down her jaw and down onto the pavement. “Everyone I knew was there, and I wasn’t expecting it.”

“How does that matter?”

Will’s face hardened. “Because… they can’t know about us.”

Annie felt something indescribable in her heart. “What do you mean, they can’t know about us?”

“Annie, we are,” he said, before pausing. “Of different social standing. You know this. My family wouldn’t approve of this relationship in the slightest. And with everyone I knew being there, I just couldn’t afford it tonight.”

She didn’t know what to say. “Why does it matter to them?” The words had more edge than she wanted them to have, but they easily conveyed what she was feeling.

“It’s... just...” Will gave a sigh sharp as a sword, and gestured to a quiet moment, away from where everyone was staying. Annie was still furious- did she even need to be, she didn’t know, but the feeling wouldn’t go away -but she followed him. 

There was a small pavilion outdoors, and Will opened it for her. They both walked inside. 

“Am I just supposed to sit back forever, in this hidden relationship? Your parents aren’t here-”

“No, but plenty of other people are. And…” He paused for a moment, looking for the right words. “I just can’t… risk it. You understand, Annie.”

“No, I really don’t.” 

“Annie-”

She stormed out past him into the night.

* * *

Annie didn’t go home to her flat that night. Instead, she went back home to her father’s, the one that sat above his tailoring shop. He was surprised to see her there at that late an hour, but he didn’t push her to explain it all to him. They sat together at the kitchen table and with his reading glasses perched on his nose, he flipped through a book of patterns as she mulled drowsily over a mug of tea. 

“Hmm, yes,” he said. He set the book on the table and slid it over to Annabel. “That fabric has been sitting in your room for ages. Perhaps something could be done with that skein.”

Annie picked up the book; it was a pattern for a sundress. It made her ache for summertime.

“It is rather pretty,” she admitted softly. She traced a finger over the drawing and her father sighed.

“I believe it is time for me to go to bed. Goodnight Annabel.”

“Goodnight.”

Her father went to his own room and Annie looked again at the drawing.

She got to tracing and cutting right away.

* * *

Annie and Will didn’t speak for four days. Neither went to visit the other, or spoke to friends who knew how the other was doing. It was as if an icy divide had grown between them.

She had spent the evening alone, excluding the glass of wine and script in her hands. There was a knock at her apartment door that evening. Annie tiredly picked herself up out of her seat and opened it, to find, much to her surprise, Will. 

Will. Will. _Will._

“What are you doing here?”

“Trying to make things right, I suppose.”

Annie frowned, but opened the door and let him in. He stood a few feet away from the entryway. She crossed her arms and waited for him to speak. He only stared at her, obviously in thought.

She supposed she would have to start this. 

“I want an answer. To the question I asked.”

Will closed his eyes and took a breath.

“Someday. Someday we can tell them. I promise, Annie, I promise-” He sounded desperate and her heart panged. “Just, I don't know. But someday, I promise, the world will know about us.”

Annie looked at him, and if she was able to fib to herself a little bit, she could see the truth in his eyes. She walked up and kissed him. 

Mostly because she was tired. She was tired of all the days she spent alone and the tears she had cried over their argument. She missed him. 

They fell into bed at one point. Not another word was spoken during that time. There wasn’t a moment for words, when all that mattered was the passion and the love between them.

Will held her close after that, as they lay there in her bed, listening to the bustling sounds of London. His lips were pressed to her shoulder, his arm was around her waist. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, and the scruff on his jaw scratched the skin over her shoulder blade. 

“Just a little longer. Just a little longer,” he whispered over and over and over again. “Then we can tell the world… Just a little longer.”

* * *

The Fairfax estate had a balcony that overlooked the lake and the woods. It was a full moon that night, the sky full of stars. His parents and brothers were away, and the servants were always willing to turn a blind eye, and therefore Annie was able to stay the evening. 

Will’s set of rooms had a set of doors that led out onto the balcony. It overlooked the gardens and the edge of the wood. It was dark out now, the stars glinting in the dark expanse of the sky.

The sound of a door opening woke her up, and a glance at the clock told her it was just before midnight. 

Annie opened her eyes from where she lay and sat up in bed. Will had opened the doors and a cool, late night summer breeze had drifted through the room. She looked around and found his robe, on the chair nearby. 

She pulled it over her shoulders and saw him standing near the corner of the balcony. 

“What are you doing?”

Will shrugged. “Sometimes I just like to look out.”

There was a chair on the balcony, and Annie took it quickly. Her bare legs were freezing, the night air surprisingly cold. She drew them underneath herself, trying to keep herself warm. 

Will was quiet, his arms folded over his chest. Annie looked out onto the grounds, where she could see the forest, dark and ominous. There were no lights, and she was tempted to look away, until she saw a figure moving at the edge of the woods, cloaked in white, bathed in the gold light streaming from the windows of the building. She felt everything inside her drop to her feet and she forced herself to stand up from her seat. 

Why did everything feel numb?

Hours possibly passed. Or maybe only a few seconds.

“I’m going inside,” she muttered, forcing the dull, frozen ache in her limbs away by wrapping her robe more tightly around herself, spinning on her heel towards the glass doors.

Annie heard Will call her name, but she was already gone.

* * *

Annie looked out periodically on the street all morning, waiting for Will, eventually spotting him when he drove up to her flat in his car.

Annie threw her luggage in the back next to his.

“Where are we going?” she asked, climbing into the passenger seat. She glanced over at Will, adjusting the sleeves of his shirt.

“You’ll see.”

It was a quiet drive, as they left the city and went into the country. She watched the city blend into trees and fields and trees, whizzing by as Will drove quickly on the roads. There weren’t too many people out now, on this summer Saturday morning. An older gentleman was walking his dog near his house, and a young couple was pushing a pram down the road, laughing together. The sunlight was golden as it fell over the countryside, as it was sent down from the giant jewel in the sky. It reminded Annie of the golden locket she now wore about her neck, radiating both of them in love and warmth. 

After a while they made it to a cottage by the seaside. Annie looked over and raised a brow.

“It’s my family’s,” he explained. “Haven’t been here in forever, thought it might be nice to take my best girl with me.”

 _Do they know I’m here?_ Annie wanted to ask, but she chose to just smile. Will wrapped his arm around her waist, kissing her and they walked inside. There were lots of photos all over, and as Will got things settled, Annie couldn’t help but glance over and look at the small table by the front door and the umbrella stand. 

The first photo that caught her eye was a photo of three small boys. She recognized Will right away, in the middle, standing up straight and tall, and that must have been his two brothers on the side- Louis and Benjamin. She had met them once at a party. They hadn’t particularly liked her all that much, but they tolerated her, and were willing to not say anything. Or maybe they were too scared of their older brother to do anything. 

Next to them was a young couple at their wedding. It must have been Will’s mother and father. He had his father’s height and disposition, but his face was most certainly that of his mother’s. They had a sincere expression on their face, Annie couldn’t quite read it. 

There was another photo of Will and his father. That one must have been taken only a couple of years earlier. There was the company logo in the background and-

“Annie.”

She looked up from the table. “Sorry, Will, was just looking.”

He shrugged. “No worries.” He picked up her bag and took it to the room they’d share, setting it on the chair in the corner, and she followed him. 

“How long has your family owned this cottage?” Annie asked. 

“As long as I can remember. We went both summers after my brothers were born.” They walked toward the kitchen together, and Annie took the food that had been packed and put it in the appropriate places. Will looked out the window to see the glimpse of the sea.

“Once Benjamin was old enough, the three of us would play out all day and have picnics.”

Annie could imagine small children laughing and running on the sand, and the waves crashing on the shore, even when no one was there now. 

“We could do that,” she said. And that’s what they did that evening, finding a basket and filling it with food. Will took the basket, and Annie spread the blanket out on the sand, and they ate together.

His head found her lap, and she ran her fingers through his hair. It had been so long since she’d seen the ocean, and the sounds of it all filled her ears and calmed her heart. She looked around. There was a young woman standing a bit of a walk away, looking out on the ocean, in both contentment and melancholy desire.

Annie leaned down and kissed him softly. “I love you.”

Will’s eyes met hers. “I love you too.” His fingers traced up her arms and to her shoulders, tracing gently over her collarbone, and to the gold chain that the locket currently laid on. 

_Tormentum meum, laetitia mea._

A love as tormentous as the sea, as pleasant as a warm summer evening. She laid back on the blanket, and he sat up and kissed her. They laid there as the sunset drifted away, and stars began to dot the night sky, until the temperature got cold enough that they needed to go inside. 

The bed was smaller than both of theirs at home, but if they curled up close enough together, they could easily fit. There was an open window so they could keep looking up at the sky and all of its nightly wonders, and every once in a while, a breeze would drift through the room, unsettling the muslin curtains. 

pWill fell asleep easily, but as always, she had something on her mind. She sat up, Will’s arm sliding down from where it had once been around her waist, and looked out at the dark, dark sea. It was hard to see where exactly the sea blended into the lovely sky. The shores were entirely empty now, one couldn’t expect to see anyone when it was so dark. 

Annie thought of that girl standing on the shore, pale as snow. She had still been standing there when the sun had set, like a ghost on the shore. Annie got on her knees and crawled to the foot of the bed. Maybe she’d be able to see her again, if she was still there. 

But she was gone, vanished. 

“Come back,” she heard Will whisper softly from where he lay. And so she did.

* * *

The sundress was Annie’s project that autumn and winter, when the nights grew longer and the temperature grew colder. It slowly came together. If there were issues with it, she asked her father and he was able to set her on the right path.

The next year was just like that summer, when they went to the cottage by the sea. It was bright and sunny one moment, and Annie was certain she was on top of the world. The next moment it was dark and stormy, like thunder and lightning. 

There seemed to be more storms than sunshine nowadays.

Words always seemed to get uglier faster than a snap, and they stood at opposing sides of a wall like armies preparing to go to war.

They were back at it again, the same argument they had always circled back to. 

A certain gossip magazine had spread an interesting article about a young woman Will had been flirting with at a gala his parents had hosted- and Annie hadn’t been invited to.

“I just don’t get it anymore. Why can’t we go public?” Annie asked, furious once again. 

She was about to retort that she thought that love, certainly a love as true as theirs, was more important than some family fortune. They would be able to make it on their own. 

But she knew very well he’d have a retort right back for her. 

The moment they spent in that room felt like a millennia. But no matter what amount of time it had been, Annie had already made her decision.

“Then we’re through.” 

Annie grabbed her bag, shoved past him, and stormed off into the night.

* * *

Annie remembered that once as a small child, her schoolteacher told her she had a horrible sense of judgement.

She supposed, sitting there, batting her eyelashes at Hugo Blake as they sat and dined with friends, that her schoolteacher was right. 

They had been going out for almost a month now, which she knew only made Will more upset, even after they had spoken on the phone the week before and things had calmed down. He and Hugo had never gotten along particularly well in the past, and recent events had only worsened it. 

But he was better than nothing, she supposed. They got along well, conversation was certainly never dull. Her father didn’t exactly approve, but then, he didn’t approve of Will either. 

Despite everything, she couldn’t bear to take off Will’s locket. It hung by her heart, a heavy weight. 

That evening, Annie and Hugo went to dine with friends. They were playing cards late at night, everyone a little tipsy, and despite the emotional turmoil she had felt during the past month, she felt better.

Like steps were being taken forward. 

Annie felt happy. 

It was her first time wearing the sundress she had made- its sunflowers were bright and it fit her just right. She loved it. 

Late at night, the group decided to call it quits. A young woman who Annie had recently made an acquaintance with went to go give her a hug. 

“Is everything alright with you and Will?” she asked, as she left the embrace. 

Annie blinked at her. “What?”

“I know you’re dating Hugo now,” her friend said, gesturing to the man waiting by the door. “I did invite Will before, he asked if you would be here, and he politely declined to come.”

“Oh…” Annie said. “Well that’s a shame.” 

They had spoken last week. She doubted they would ever date again but… certainly things would be fine now. They were friends.

Annie walked over to Hugo.

“Drive me home.”

Hugo nodded and they walked silently to his car. She was on the passenger side, he in the driver’s seat, and the steamy summer night was all around. 

“You alright, Annie?

“I’m fine.”

Hugo seemed unconvinced.

“Is it about Will?” 

Annie froze, then shook her head viciously. “No, no. I’m just tired, it’s fine.”

They drove the rest of the way home in silence. Annie said her goodbyes, and walked up to her house on Sheen Road. She opened and locked the door, listening for Hugo to drive off. She sighed and took off her heels, leaving them topped over by the front door.

She made her way to the kitchen, about to put on the kettle, when she had the vaguest feeling that she was not alone.

“Annabel.”

She spun around, recognizing immediately who it was. Her heart burned with fury. _How the hell was he here?_

Will was standing there, in her house, anger on his face.

“Will, what do you want?”

“Why were you out with Hugo Blake?”

“Why was I out with Hugo Blake? We went out for dinner. Surely we’re allowed to do that.” 

Will took a breath. “I never wanted you speaking with Hugo Blake.”

“Why should that matter to you? I said it to you before, we’re done. We’re through. I’m allowed to speak to whoever I want, Will.”

Will looked off to the side.

“What happened to us, Annie?”

Annie’s hands turned into fists. “What do you mean what happened to us? Things didn’t work out.”

“I wanted to speak with you for weeks.”

“And I did speak to you. Last week! I thought we worked it out.”

“I don’t think we truly did. Seeing as I heard from your friends that you were out with Hugo Blake tonight.”

“Are we back to this? I’m seeing Hugo Blake. And that’s that.”

There was a tic in Will’s jaw.

Her next words were final. “I never want to be with you again. I’ve made up my mind.”

He took one step closer and everything went black in pain and heartbreaking sadness, and all she could hear was her own scream.

* * *

Brick by brick she was sealed away, shut off from the warmth of the world. Her body was rotting away, her soul was hollow.

Her heart had been shattered under her chest, and the sunflowers, once bright and shining, faded.

People came looking for her. The police were there, and she heard her father’s voice yelling here.

 _I’m here! Please find me!_ she wanted to yell.

But she couldn’t. Her words fell silent to their deaf ears.

Year after year, she fell apart. She waited. 

And waited.

_And waited._

The creaking of the front door opening and the sounds of two pairs of footsteps alerted her ears.

A young girl entered the house, along with another companion- a young boy about her age. But the girl could hear. She could hear everything. All the sounds of the past rang through her ears, it was a wonder she even dared to go inside.

The girl walked up the stairs. She left her confinement as Annabel again- she was never Annabel when she had left before. 

They met on the landing. 

This girl could hear. She could listen. She could help her. 

And maybe finally someone would understand.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!!
> 
> Stay safe out there. <3


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